


Office Hours

by tennesseebigfoot



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Cock Slut, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gen, Graduate School, Gratuitous Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Steamy, Vaginal Fingering, i was listening to the weeknd while writing it, loved writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27147365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tennesseebigfoot/pseuds/tennesseebigfoot
Summary: Professor Aizen's new TA is in for a hot discussion when visiting his office hours. Don’t fuck your professors.
Relationships: Aizen Sousuke/Original Character(s), Aizen Sousuke/Original Female Character(s), Aizen Sousuke/Reader, Aizen Sousuke/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Office Hours

“You know, I feel like there aren't enough humanities majors on campus.” You looked to where the voice was coming from, the juice in your hand slowly emptying with every slurp you took.

“Well, no duh.” Nanao sighed, “but why, what do you mean?”

“Well, I just mean like,” Rukia scratched her chin, “actually, I’m not sure what I mean, anyway, where’s Ichigo we were supposed to go to lunch.”

“He’s still in class, he added his new course yesterday, remember?” You put the juice down, recalling his face when he realized he got the last seat in the course.

“Oh right, fuck, I already had his old schedule memorized.” She pulled her phone out, “now I have to fix this, anyway, what’re you doing for lunch? We can go together.”

You frowned, “actually, I can’t, I’m starting my TA position today, I should actually be heading over there, I don’t know who he is, and I have to sit in this lecture.”

“Wait, is it in the LOTV building?” Nanao asked, now packing her own bag, “I’ll walk with you, my next class is there.”

“I thought you had office hours today? What was all that freaking out about earlier?” Rukia stood up as well, preparing to walk the opposite reaction.

“Not me, my professor, Kyoraku, I’m not sure how that guy ever got his master’s degree with the way he is, seriously.” Nanao groaned. You laughed, picking up your things and walking with her side-by-side. The silence resonated softly between the two of you, eyes fluttering toward the Cherry Blossom petals that began to fall with the change of the season.

“So what’s the class?” Nanao asked, “it’s not with Professor Hirako, is it?”

“No, I don’t know who this guy is, I’ve never had him but, it's a philosophy course.” You pulled out your phone, opening the course information, “it’s titled, ‘Good and Bad: The Neverending War.’ His description says its a deep analytical view on morals and the hypocrisy of labeling things as good and bad, ‘a deconstructed view of what we know as good’.”

“Huh, what’s the required reading?” Her interest was caught as she looked at your screen, “Machiavelli?”

“Probably, honestly I’ve been busy with my own classes, and I just got the position, he asked me to show up a little before the lecture to talk a bit.”

“There’s not another class before his?”

“I guess not.” You shrugged, arms out, and pushing the doors into the building. The warmth wrapped the two of you in its embrace, the chill of the wind outside now gone. Your cheeks warmed, a small smile crawling up your face.

“I’ll see you later, good luck.”

“Thanks, you too.” You veered the opposite direction, turning down the quiet corridor, counting the doors until you reached the lecture hall. You thought for a moment about the newly installed metal door, the ancientness of your university in direct contrast to the revamped hall. There were a few students scattered in chairs, laptops open, and paying no mind to the stranger who had just entered.

You looked down the stairs, the hall bowled to accommodate the focus point of it, a man stood by his laptop before moving away from it and toward the chalkboard. The hall was familiar to you, having had a few lectures from Professor Hirako and Professor Tousen in this room.

The sudden bubbling nervousness in your stomach grew with every step, you hadn’t been this intimidated by a professor since your Junior year of your undergrad. You stuffed your phone in your pocket, now seeing him in full view.

His side profile must’ve been chiseled by god himself, hair slicked back with a loose strand hanging in front of his vision, however, it didn’t seem to obstruct his view. He rolled his sleeves, eyes concentrated on the screen before turning away to write on the board.

“Professor Aizen.” You hesitated, unsure of whether or not you should interrupt his work. He turned, lowering his hand and eyeing you, for a brief moment you felt hot, stuck under the gaze of a greek god.

“Ah, (Y/N), you must be my other TA this semester, right?” He smiled, but it wasn’t friendly, there was something hidden behind his smile, something darker.

“Yeah, it’s nice to finally meet you.”  
“Likewise, you’ll have to forgive me for not having made time to meet with you earlier, I’ve been busy. I actually wanted to just touch base with you before your discussion this coming Friday.”

“Oh, alright.” You nodded, “should I go sit in the back?”

“Go ahead,” he smiled once more, “oh and, (Y/N), come to my office hours tomorrow, I’d like to talk about your first discussion.”

You affirmed you would go, feeling the heat of your body rise once more as you turned and walked toward a seat in the back of the hall. You knew he was still watching you, you could feel it, even as students began entering the hall.

You sat, eyebrows furrowed as you got your laptop out, why were you feeling like this? You had only spoken to him for two minutes, and even then he hadn’t done anything. Was he just that gorgeous? Did his very presence really give you such an effect?

He had begun speaking at the front of the room, introductions, and course information. You looked up from your laptop screen, eyes landing on his, locked in a staring contest. You gasped pulling away and back to your laptop. Alright, what was that?

“(Y/N)! Hey!” A small whisper yell came from next to you.

“Momo, hey, what are you doing here?”

“I’m his TA.” She sat down, “are you in this course? Aren’t you a grad student too?”

“I’m his other TA.” You chuckled, she covered her mouth, muttering a brief apology before facing forward.

She gave you another brief smile before facing ahead, eyes trained on Professor Aizen rather than the work he seemed to be presenting. You could practically see the hearts in her eyes. You looked over at her, a chuckle escaped your lips as she leaned closer in the professor’s direction, almost as if she would float towards him.

You returned to your computer, typing away at the essay you had started a few days prior, lost in the words that had been on replay for the past 30 minutes in your mind, over and over, as if you couldn’t think past them.

You huffed, looking back up to the lecture, however this time his eyes were not on you; his eyes were trained on the chalkboard as he wrote key information needed for discussion.

With this, you were able to completely take him in. His brown locks were gelled back, white button-up was tucked into his dress pants, perfectly hugging him, each curve and edge winking back at you. You’ve never thought about a professor like this, certainly not one you were working for, but what was the harm in finding him hot?

Another hour and a half went by, students began packing up and you followed suit, laptop in hand.

“When is your discussion, Momo?”

“Wednesday, when’s yours?”

“Friday.” You walked ahead of her, turning to see her follow behind, eyes shifted toward the professor before exiting.

“Bye, (Y/N).” He said.

You looked back through the crack in the door, eyes catching him, and rather than heat from his gape, a chill ran down your spine.

You left the building, a hand to your cheek, what was happening? What did that mean? Was there something he needed to tell you?

It was all you thought about, on the walk to the train station, on the bus ride home, and when arriving at your apartment. You entered quietly, ignoring the laughter from the other room, you slipped off your shoes and hung your jacket, keys dropped in the bowl.

“Hey, you’re back! How was it?” Nanao turned from her laptop, arms folded on the edge of the couch.

“Uh,” the heat began to rise again, the memory of his predatory eyes, “it went well, I’m… excited.”

“Are you sure?” She knew you weren’t telling her the whole truth, there was something you were keeping from her, she could see it.

“Yeah, uh, I just have to put my things down. Give me a sec.” You left the main room and practically stumbled into your room, “fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

You tossed your bag onto the bed, stripping every layer of clothing off before lying down on the bed in your shirt and underwear, hands on your face. Your eyes closed, but there was no escape, his eyes, his face, his words, nothing left your mind.

You spread your fingers, opening your eyes for a moment, “what is happening?” You didn’t have enough energy to answer that question, seemingly drifting off into a deep sleep, unknowing as to what was going to happen tomorrow.

That night you dreamt of his hands on your waist, his breath on your neck, every inch of him dripping all over you like forbidden nectar; something secret only to you.

The next day you spent both dreading and looking forward to his office hours, every moment of the day ticked by slower than the last, minutes turned to hours and hours turned to years.

“Are you good?” Momo pushed your arm, you blinked out from your steamy daydream.

“What? Yeah, why?”

“We asked if you wanted to get some food with us before we all head home, are you sure you’re good? Your cheeks are so hot!” Rukia’s cold hands pressed onto your cheeks, you gasped, stepping back from the sensation.

“I-I can’t,” you pressed your own hands to your cheeks, “sorry, I have to meet with Professor Aizen.”

“For what?” Momo asked, her curiosity now piqued, “he didn’t say anything to me.”

“I’m not sure, honestly, I’ll tell you after, so I’ll see you later guys.” You waved them off, stepping away, and toward your destination, they called behind you but the newly developed nervous excitement at the pit of your stomach had pushed you to walk toward the office.

It’s not like anything was actually going to happen, you thought, his dark looks were literally just what he looked like. He was just an incredibly hot, and incredibly intimidating man. What could he actually want to talk about? You thought about it, there really wasn’t much to it, was there?

The offices weren’t too far from the lecture halls or classrooms, and from the number on his professor page, you knew where he was located. The hallway seemed to grow as you walked, your feet practically dragging as you trudged the hall, now deciding that perhaps you didn’t actually want to see him. How could you face him after thinking about how good he would feel inside of you?

“(Y/N)? Is that you?”

You whipped around so fast you got a minor headache, “professor Hirako, hey!”

“What’re you doing down here? I haven't seen you in a while, keeping up with your thesis?” His asymmetrical bangs swung with his steps, long and limber.

“Oh, I’m TAing for professor Aizen, he asked me to meet with him.”

“Sosuke!”

“Hmm?”

“Sosuke, yeah, he used to TA for me, actually.”

You furrowed your brows, how? Professor Hirako and Professor Aizen looked to be the same age. Was he joking? He noticed your features, a laugh rumbling from his chest, teeth smiling at you with such a familiar gleam, “I’m much older than I look, I’ve just got a great skincare routine.”

You nodded, still not completely believing him, “funny—”

“Oh, hey, Sosuke!” Hirako’s attention was pulled from you, he was now waving; uncaring that he may be disrupting other professors who may be working.

“Professor Hirako.” Aizen spoke curtly, his voice closer. You finally allowed yourself to turn, and there he stood in all his glory. You moved with him, head-turning with every strut he took toward the pair of you. It was as though he and the Earth had an agreement, he would not walk but be carried from place to place.

“How’s the office Sosuke? Nice that we’re near each other, huh?” Hirako was obviously teasing him, but it seemed Aizen would have none of it.

“Professor, I have a meeting with my TA, and I’m currently in office hours, I don’t have time for this.”

He was unnaturally cold, poised, he seemed ready to attack. What was he on guard for?

“Right, then, I’ll leave you to it. See you later,” and with that, he turned, walking the opposite direction.

Aizen turned to you, his eyes once more putting you in a box and under his taunting control, “shall w—“

“Oh, but, Sosuke!” Hirako yelled from the end of the hall, “don’t do anything to (Y/N) now, alright?”

Aizen’s demeanor changed, looking toward the blonde who stood relaxed, unbothered by the glare.

“I’ve got my eye on you!”

Aizen began to retort, but he stopped, instead of biting back and keeping his venomous words to himself. Another office door opened, Professor Tousen’s head peered out, glasses glimmered back at the light hitting him, “was that Hirako?”

“It was nothing Kaname, please return to your work.”

“Hmm. He seems to enjoy causing a racket.” The door closed and Aizen sighed, you watched his jaw clench for a moment, then release as his demeanor changed once more.

“Well, shall we?”

You nodded walking with him, his stride moving him to lead you, hands quick to open the door. You watched his fingers, each digit wrapping around the knob, ever so smoothly around before pushing it open.

“Thank you.” You stepped inside, eyes wide at his decor. He was traditional, kakejiku hung from his wall by a window, his desk was wood. On the said desk was a quill and ink set, and a laptop, papers were on the shelf along with several thick volumes of literature.

“Go ahead and sit.” He closed the door behind him, “how are you?”

“I’m good.” You eyed the quill and ink, now realizing that it was not a quill-- but a brush.

“Do you enjoy calligraphy?”

“Hmm?” You caught sight of his torso, admiring the way his abdomen almost strained against the fabric of his shirt, “oh yes, well, no, but I find it quite beautiful.”

“It’s truly an art. I find it quite relaxing.” He sat down on the other side of the desk, his eyes trained on you, watching your every move.

“I have a friend who enjoys it, she’s not very good at it, but her brother is. He’s actually a grad student here too, I doubt you would know him.” You wanted to chide yourself for going on about such a meaningless topic.

“Well what’s his name?”

“Byakuya, Kuchiki.” You watched recognition in his eyes, he cocked up an eyebrow.

“I do know him, he’s in one of Kaname’s classes.” He sat back, crossing one leg over the other.

“Kaname?”

“Professor Tousen, we just saw him.”

“Oh, right!” You pressed a hand against your forehead, “I didn’t realize that was his first name. I don’t know how it slipped my mind.”

There was a pause, the silence thick with tension, what tension? What was hidden behind this sensation? There was something there, a second agenda you didn’t know about. He never pulled his gaze, remaining fixated on you, looking completely through you.

“Professor Aizen, what was it you needed to speak to me about?” The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them. He leaned forward, elbows on top of the dark oak, hands folded under his chin.

“Nothing in particular, I simply wanted to know more about you.”

“I recall you wanted to touch base about the discussion, right?” You felt the heat once more, your own hot impassioned feelings dancing up your body. You couldn’t take this, there was too much happening, you couldn’t get a hold of your thoughts.

“Right.” He smiled, another sultry, inviting smile, “tell me, (Y/N), do you believe stealing is wrong?”

Your words caught in your throat, you felt breathless at his quick change of topic, “stealing? Well, it depends doesn’t it?”

“How so?”

You blinked, “well, I guess, stealing from a friend is bad but stealing from—“

“That's not what I asked.”

Your chest seized, his head tilting to the side as though he was mesmerized by something you didn’t have the ability to see.

“What?”

He stood up, circling the desk, one foot in front of the other, before sitting at the edge. He pushed your chair with his foot, angling you to face him. You gasped, the new jerking movement catching you off guard.

“Do you think stealing is inherently wrong? I didn’t ask you if it was bad, I asked you if it was wrong.”

“Well, aren’t they synonymous?”

He stopped smiling, “just answer the question, please.”

You sucked in a breath, in any other situation, you would’ve left. You would’ve complained to the head of the department, you would’ve complained to the dean and filed a report. However here, you were glued to your seat—hypnotized by the way he held you in the palm of his hand.

“Well then, yes I think it's wrong.”

“So do you think if someone steals they should have to suffer consequences? Of course, it all depends doesn’t it, as you said? Things aren’t always what they seem, stealing from your neighbor may be wrong, but stealing from a corporation isn’t, right? Even as children we’re always taught all stealing is wrong, except the invisible government entities that steal from us every day, because when they do it— it’s to help us. Theft, stealing, can we truly say it's wrong? Is it really wrong?”

“I—”

He pressed a finger to your lips, “I haven’t finished.”

Your mouth was shut, his thumb moving under your chin, whilst his index finger moved back and forth on your top lip, before pushing it inside. Your eyes widened, still trained on his, he had begun to smile once more. Your tongue moved, swirling his finger to show the acceptance of his action.

“What if I was to steal you right now? What if I, right now, stole what bit of dignity you had left?”

He pulled his finger from your mouth, now positioning it under your lip and tilting your face to his, loose strands teasing your skin, “would I be wrong to assume you would want that?”

You almost couldn’t comprehend what was happening, lost in the moment of what he was doing. You weren’t in your world anymore, you were in his, lost and unassuming of the world outside his office.

He pressed his lips to yours, softly biting at your bottom lip, demanding entrance. You welcomed it happily, drinking all of him; riding a high you hadn’t known to exist prior to this very moment. He dominated your mouth, immediately showing you he was in complete control. His other hand cradled your face, the gesture lost on you as he pursued your mouth.

He pulled away, “do you want this, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes cowered away from his, unable to maintain his absolute look of a god, _“yes.”_

He smiled again, the smile of a champion, a roman hero who had claimed victory over a pathetic enemy, “undress.”

“H-here?” You furrowed your brows.

“Did I stutter?”

You sat back, then pulling off your jacket, followed by your top. You stood up, feeling the awkwardness of the moment, knowing his eyes were still on you. However, that was short-lived, as he then, reached for you, unbuttoning your pants for you.

“P-professor!”

“Don’t be too loud now, we don’t need anyone hearing what is happening.” He wasted no time, quickly exposing your pussy to the air, you froze, now almost cold to the sensation. He turned pushing you against the desk, you yelped at the wood hitting your skin.

Your hands fell back, reaching to hold you up against the desk.

His lips met your neck, leaving a hot trail as they moved lower and lower until reaching your bra. He bit the thin fabric, your eyes moved to look at him.

He looked up at you as he pulled the fabric down, exposing your breast to him. He pressed a hand to your lower back before pressing his mouth over your nipple, biting and sucking at such sensitive skin.

“Oh.” You moaned softly, eyes now closed as you felt him drag a finger along your skin. Your body moved with his touch, as though you were a sunflower to follow the sun, his every move was magic to you.

He repeated the process once more, eyes having finally pulled away. You moaned softly once more, controlling your volume.

“Lay back.” He whispered, using his hand to leverage you lower and lower. You lied on the desk, eyes staring up at the ceiling. Was this really happening? Were you really in this position? Was your prof— _fuck!_

“You’re soaking.” He spoke, one of his fingers had entered you, the slick having helped him effortlessly, “tell me, (Y/N), what’re you thinking?”

His thumb rested on your clit, applying pressure but unmoving. You thrust your hips up, squirming to get relief, he was quick to stop you.

“I won’t move until you tell me.” He twitched his finger, you were anxious, what were you thinking? You couldn’t answer that, you didn’t know what you were thinking.  
“I-I don’t know, just keep moving.” You breathed out.

He seemed satisfied, curling his digit inside of you, moving in a rhythmic motion, before pressing in a second. You gasped, his thumb joining the orchestra as he played a symphony that moved your body.

Your eyes sealed shut, sweat beginning to build as the heat that had crawled your body exploded into beads of pleasure. You moaned, an arm moving to grab the edge of the desk. His fingers worked magic; pumping you perfectly in sync with the rolls of his thumb.

Your other hand went to your mouth, slapping your palm to your lips, you squeaked at the sting mixing with the pleasure felt on all your nerves.

His fingers pulled away, you groaned at the loss before you felt something wet swirl your tender bud. You pushed yourself up, one of your legs now dangling over his shoulder, his mouth moved lower now exploring your depths as his nose lodged against your clit.

You bit the side of your hand, moaning as he devoured you, you watched his work. His mouth was just as talented with its work, his eyelashes brushed ever so lightly onto your skin. You sucked in another breath.

“Professor Aizen—“

His eyes opened, he looked up at you, you could almost feel his arrogance. Now quickly using his hand to make quick work of your pussy, his tongue swirling your clit, going to suck as he pumped every ounce out of you.

The waves of ecstasy began to crash, your toes curled, your arms locked, and soon the orgasm was the only feeling your body retained. You moaned, almost drawing blood, tears pooling in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling.

He pulled away, quick to unzip his pants, he barely pulled them down giving you a glimpse at his length. His angry red cock bounced before you, free from its confines. You wondered at how you could take it, but before you could question him—

“Are you on the pill?”

You wish you could’ve answered, but your mind was cloudy, still climbing down from such a perfect high, you opted for a nod.

He stroked his dick before pushing between your folds, entering you, and moaning at the sensation. His moan was short, stopping himself before reverting to a grunt. You took in a sharp breath, tears now falling as he stretched you, “profes— professor, I—”

“You can take it, you can take it.” He murmured, he pushed himself as much as he could, allowing you to adjust to his length, “I’m going to move now.”

He pulled out, pulling away until all that was left was the tip, before pressing right back in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” you whispered, dropping your hand and pushing it against his chest, a few of his buttons had been undone, and your hand glided his toned figure. His arm wrapped your thigh, more hairs falling from their slicked position.

“You were thinking about this the whole time, weren’t you?”

You looked up at him through glassy eyes, he went on, “I knew the minute I saw you, the way you walked, the way you watched me. I know what you were thinking, and how does it feel?”

Your moans began to gather, his hips thrusting faster and faster, almost snapping in and out of you at an inhuman pace.

 _“Take it._ Take this cock.” He said through gritted teeth, “look at you, crying at the feeling of my cock stretching you.”

You whimpered, shaking against his desk, the heat between your legs building at such oversensitivity.

You looked away, dropping the hand from his chest. He reached for your chin, “look at me, look at me while I fuck you against my desk.”

It was filthy, every minute of it, rocking in and out of you, slowing and picking the speed back up. He looped his arms around your thighs, leveraging you off the desk, skin slapping against skin as he rammed inside of you.

“Fuck.” He grunted, a sheen of sweat glimmering in the light, you could feel it coming, he was going to cum.

He dropped you back onto the desk, leaning over you before ducking down to bite your neck, his hips snapped;

Once, Twice, Three more times.

He shot inside of you, driving himself deeper into you as he came inside you, your arms flying to his back in an effort to pull him closer. You whimpered, holding him against you to take in every drop.

He breathed deeply, taking you in. After a beat, he finally pulled away, slicking his hair back with his hand, pulling himself out. He reached for tissues from a drawer, wiping off his dick before handing you the box, “clean yourself up.”

You breathed deeply, finally comprehending what he said, wiping yourself and the hot white liquid, “professor—”

“Once you’re done, you should leave, I’ll see you next lecture.” He reached to button for his shirt, your legs felt like jelly fumbling to get dressed confused at his sudden coldness. You fixed your pants and bra, pulling the top of your head. He finally turned to face you.

“This was a great discussion, (Y/N),” he smiled, handing you your jacket, “I think we got a lot done today.”

You left after dressing, head spinning with an overwhelming feeling of astonishment and ecstasy. You couldn’t believe that had actually happened, you were shocked, excited, scared? The walk to the train station riddled your thoughts with the Professor and what had happened.  
  


Your phone buzzed in your pocket, a text message: 

‘what did you talk about?’   
  


Sent from Momo.

**Author's Note:**

> LOTV stands for ‘Lilly of the Valley’ which is Squad 5’s official flower
> 
> follow me on Twitter! [@tennessebigfoot](https://twitter.com/tennessebigfoot?s=20)


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